


Drowning

by forrestwyrm



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Drowning, Multi, Panic Attacks, but i think of it as lamp myself, comments are apprectiated, creative overload, first posted on Tumblr, how much creative flow is too much?, i'd like to think this fic answers that, issues with breathing, roman isn't having a good time, well that's a good question, you can read this as not having pairings if you want to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:11:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15226965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forrestwyrm/pseuds/forrestwyrm
Summary: Roman is drowning in his thoughts.





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> This was made based on a prompt that tumblr user amethystdarkwolf posted. I originally posted this on my sideblog, phantomofthesanderssides- feel free to check that this is mine. (If you find it posted elsewhere, it's not me who put it there and if you could tell me that would be great!)  
> Anyways, enjoy!

Roman, though he is sitting at his desk, is floating on an ocean of thoughts.

_Get Thomas to ask Joan about this idea for the next script. Write ‘It Could Be Gayer’ as a musical. Invite the others to my room for a quest._

He starts to write on a new page-

_“Once upon a time, there was a witch named Talyn, who watched over the Kingdom of Sunrise quietly, always ready with their spells to help-”_

-but then a new idea forms, springing forth from the back of his mind, and it’s so utterly wonderful (it refuses to go away) that he turns away from his writings. He can always come back to them later (he won’t). This one is his best yet, for certain (it shouts the loudest, so it must be told).

_“For the next video, we will be addressing an argument we had with our friends, and will have to fend off a new dark side-”_

_“Learn how to play Hamilton songs on the ukulele-”_

_“Ask Virgil about having him sew together this costume for a Halloween video-”_

From idea to idea he leaps, papers fluttering to the floor around him like dying leaves during the rust-red season of autumn ( _make a short based on the season’s personalities_ ) but he wants to get them all down on paper so he can finish them later when they’re not dancing away from his fingertips ( _try out different forms of dancing with your friends_ ) he wants to get them out before they drive him mad ( _make a skit based on Alice in Wonderland_ ) he needs to get them away so he can breathe ( _have another episode about anxiety and relaxation_ ) he needs to get them away so he can think he needs them away he needs them away _he needs to breathe he can’t breathe the ideas are clogging up his mind and crawling up his throat and he can’t move his lungs are burning and since when did the floor get so close—_

His head is swimming and tears roll down his cheeks to join the ocean he is being tossed about in, the depths of which welcome him as he starts to sink, as the thoughts pile over his head, so heavy that he can never resurface again—

“Roman?”

A hand touches his cheek, and it feels so far away that it takes him a moment to respond. The quiet whine he emits with the last bit of his air almost takes too much, and the hand moves, and now there are more hands, and he’s being rolled over, and the noises which sounded so muffled a moment before are shattered by a distorted roar, and he’s being picked up, and carried, and then he’s forced to the surface of his ocean so fast his head spins and everything sounds so clear now and there’s a voice beside him telling him to breathe, and so he does, in, hold, out, in, hold, out, that’s it, that’s it, come back to us Roman, you’re doing so well, just breathe with me, it’s going to be fine. “It’s going to be okay.”

His eyes fly open, and he sees the others crowded around him, above him, Virgil cradling Roman’s head and whispering reassurances, Logan trembling and grasping his hand like it’s a lifeline, and Patton crying softly behind him, and Roman realizes that he’s crying as well, letting out sobs in-between great, shuddering gasps of air. They’re just outside his room, and when he looks inside he sees paper scattered all over his floor and realizes what had happened.

“Roman,” Logan whispers, and Roman snaps his gaze back towards the logical side holding his hand. “Roman, what was that?”

“I,” he begins in a strangled voice, struggling into a sitting position, and then he clears his throat and tries again. “I just… I just wanted to write my ideas down, I didn’t mean to-to make this happen, or, or to worry you--”

“Roman,” Patton whispers, “We always worry about you, because we care about you. Just as you do for us…”

“Yes, but--”

Patton cuts him off, eyes shimmering with another wave of tears. “And you _cannot_ keep things like this to yourself, Ro—you weren’t breathing. That wasn’t just ‘writing down ideas’, you _weren’t breathing_ , Roman--”

“Patton,” Virgil speaks, and the normally sunshine-filled side falls silent, and Roman would give almost anything to put a smile back on his face. Virgil tilts his head towards him. “What was going on, Roman?”

Roman hesitates, but then hears Patton sniffle and his resistance crumbles away. “Sometimes,” he hiccups, wiping tears off his cheeks, “sometimes, I have… rushes. Of ideas for di-different things, like songs and scripts and video ideas—and I want to write them down, because they’re so good, b-but--”

His voice breaks, and Virgil rubs his back in slow circles as his voice comes back. “But then-it’s too much, sometimes, and if I don’t get them all out of me, they build up, and then--”

“You spiral into a panic attack?” Virgil murmurs, and Roman lets out a shaky laugh, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. “Oh, Zeus, damn it all, you’re r-right—I’m so sorry, I never wanted to come out with it, and it’s s-so hypocritical of me when I’ve been telling you n-not to hide your anxious feelings from us--”

“Shhhh, shhh, just breathe, Roman,” Virgil soothes, and the creative side curls closer to him, and consequently tugs Logan along with him, and then they’re all hugging on the hallway floor, and Roman feels gross and snotty but he wouldn’t change anything about this moment for the world.

“We’re here for you,” Logan murmurs, quiet and reassuring, and the other two echo it.

And within their embrace, Roman feels the last of the chains of panic and inadequacy fall, fade, and disappear.


End file.
